Daniel R.H. ¦ Writer

Tuesday 12:30pm – Martin sits with his two of his friends at one of the the table’s outside Panizzi – The sky is clear, the sun shines across the entire of the Wollongong Campus. Sounds of birds chirping over the sound of students laughing can be heard – A plump of ducks passively pass by, making the daily waddle from the pond to Subway for the leftover bread.

Martin: So have you guys enrolled in the postal vote yet?

Friend #1: Yeah, I enrolled a couple of days ago. You?

Martin takes a bite out of his toastie.

Martin: Yeah I’m enrolled.

Friend #2: Ugh. This postal vote is such a waste of money. It’s essentially an opinion poll. They should have just followed what New Zealand did.

Friend #1: Yeah, I think Labor would have handled this a lot better.

Martin: I don’t know. Labor tried doing that a while back, and they got held up in the High Court. They seemed a bit stunted with their policies, half the reason why I voted Liberal last elec…

Friend #2: You…you did what?

All chatter around Panizzi immediately comes to a halt. The birds cease to chirp, the ducks halt their march, it is completely silent.

Friend #1: What did you say?

Martin: Nothing!

Friend #2: Did…did you just say you voted for Liberal?

All the students sitting in the surrounding area turn their heads simultaneously to stare at Martin. Their necks crack in unison from the sheer force of the movement.

Martin: No…nope. I voted for the err…I, I voted for the Sex Party! Yep, the good ol’ Sex Party…Ha ha.

Martin glanced upward to the windows of the library above him. Hundreds of students stand at each of the windows, none of them moving, all gazing directly down at him in utter silence. The only sound was a faint breeze rustling the branches of the trees.

Friend #1: *pointing* No you didn’t. You said you voted for Turnbull.

A deafening, simultaneous screech comes from the crowd around Panizzi. The blue sky soon disappeared as black smog like clouds immediately rushed to cover it.Martin was swarmed with a rabble of noise from the crowd, each one of them reciting different section of last nights Q&A.

“Do you hate student rights?!”

“Do you think that refugees should be kept prisoners on an island!?”

“WORKCHOICES”

The hundreds of students standing at the library windows above him begin to crack the glass with their skulls while they screech. The glass finally gives way, and the students begin to pour from the top levels onto the ground below, scrambling over each other on the ground as more and more fall from the library, like a scene from the Walking Dead.

Martin picks up his bag and tries to flee. Before he can even leave his table, ‘those who hand out flyers outside the Library’ swarm him. Hoisting him up above their shoulders, they begin to forcibly march him down to the pond, where a crucifix in the shape of a hammer and sickle awaits him. He screams as the crowd begins to chant, pumping their pitchforks and burning torches in the air.